


Pirates

by HackdrawerMcHugglesWorthRivertonThe3rd



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Language!, Reflection, relationships, time jumps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HackdrawerMcHugglesWorthRivertonThe3rd/pseuds/HackdrawerMcHugglesWorthRivertonThe3rd
Summary: ‘When the wound heals, it depends on the subject how well it heals.' But how does one heal when they weren't expecting to survive?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Pirates

**PIRATES –**

* * *

"You lost this bet."

"This is _bull_ shit, you wannabe shitty surgeon..."

"Pay up, you little shit. I won fair and square...take it off. _All_ of it."

"You've been here long enough to know I don't follow the orders of a man…"

"Blackleg-ya...ya agreed to be my patient. Don't _make_ me _make_ you be my patient…"

"Hah, ya fucking weirdo, you trying to threaten me? Doing this...this is - this is _rape_ , this is...!"

"You say it's rape but you look at you, unbuckling real slow, making sure I'm watching you..."

"I'm a man of my word but this is fucking bullshit - we bet on food, _not_...! I don't want to do this...I'm a man, why don't I do it to you? I'm a cook, I know what to do with a damn knife!"

"We'll take turns...how about that?"

"Yeah, _right_ , you and your damn goons outside -!"

"They're my watch, don't worry, they'll make sure you don't get caught by that old man...c'mere..."

"I can't do this...I...I won't be a man, afterward, with all your grabby – gross hands, with your edgy tattoos…! Stop stopstop stop -! Um...stopstop... _uh_...you...! Uh, _ow_ , you ...! Slow down..."

"Look me in the eyes, you little shit. I want to watch you..."

"FUCK OFF! You're really getting off on this, ain't'cha? You one of them shitty okama in training, why you preying on guys like me that you think is vulnerable...? I look young, but believe me, I've lived a long time - !"

"Shut up. Shut up, _shut up_ ...I can't keep this up when you're so cooperative…hold your scrawny hips still, stop tantalizing me."

"Uh, ouch...! Ouch ouch... _ouch_! Please...please go slower...please, _mmm_ , not so deep...tease me a little...at least make it feel good..."

"Shut up _shut up_ shut up...! You're so - ! You're the one making this more than what it actually is, you shitty little brat!"

" _Hurry up_!" one of the goons hissed from outside the door, Trafalgar Law tensing for a moment while the blonde waiter lightly danced from foot to foot, fingers digging into Law's shirt at the shoulder. But his sanitized needle and thread passed through irritated pink skin deftly; his fingers weren't trembling this time, Law noticed, easing breath through his nose with concentrated effort.

Blackleg Sanji yelped, causing Law to tighten his grasp to steady his moving hips. "Fuck, not so deep! Not so... _ouch_!"

Tongue between his lips, Law watched as his own fingers neatly stitched the oozing wound shut - some kitchen accident that went unreported and disguised with bad bandaging - the kid was emitting noise that was much too overdramatic. Law had a feeling the kid wasn't actually in pain - but he could tell from the shake of Penguin's voice from behind the shut doors that even _he_ wasn't sure if the exact action taking place in here. Law smirked at the waiter – who had to be at least sixteen - pausing in mid-stitch.

"If I hadn't noticed the way you were holding this hip, this wound would have continued to grow infected…and _those_ old men would have to put their grubby hands on you eventually, once you collapsed from some type of illness caused as the result of it. Consider yourself lucky that I am kind enough to offer my services…"

"You done? Because I've had better," Sanji asked him flatly.

"Shut up," Law murmured, tying a careful knot - it wasn't perfect, so he tied another. He examined the stitches with disapproval, thumb smoothing inches from the area. The waiter kid shivered, skin tensing under Law's touch. Law looked at the kid, recognizing him and then not because people from the North either didn't talk about their pasts, or they bragged about it, and the kid didn't do either. He applied a band-aid over the area, smoothing the edges flat against reddening skin. Sanji slapped his hands away the moment the adhesive stuck, Law trying not to laugh at the outrage in the kid's face.

The shine of carefully sanitized razors, scissors, knives and tightly packed containers of stolen contraband in a battered doctor's bag forced Law to understand that he was still not any closer to his goal than he was when he'd started. Vision of his father and the cozy office he'd had before the massacre flashed over his eyes. It took an enormous amount of effort to will that image away. Law closed the bag while Sanji examined the band-aid on his hip with scorn, clothes fixed with hasty efforts.

"You gotta stop buying dudes to hide away in the closet with, people are gonna get the wrong message," the kid said flatly, lighting up a cigarette. Law took it away from him, and pressed the ember out into his own wrist. Law's face didn't even twitch in reaction, and that left Sanji feeling unsettled.

"I pay you for a reason, stupid," Law murmured, tossing the rest of the cigarette aside while Sanji looked at him with a twitching frown. The older man produced some neatly folded belli from his jeans pocket. The kid snatched it from him before Law could keep it from him, counting each bill before putting it away. "I chose you as a victim because you aren't the type to brag about what we men do in private."

Sanji rolled his big eyes, crossing his thin arms over his skinny chest. "Don't make this _gay_ , shithead…"

"Just let me play doctor with your body, and continue to take all those gorgeous, rich ladies off your hands," Law murmured while the kid flared like he was going to explode at any moment. "Like you'd know what to do with them, anyway. My crew robs them while I fuck 'em."

" _I hate you_! Vile piece of shit!" Sanji glared venomously at him, then clapped his hands over his white shirt and black pants, huffing. Seeing the way the women reacted when this edgelord came around with his brooding face left Sanji feeling helpless in such a way that he let it go without much of a fight.

 _When I'm older, it'll be different_ , he reluctantly conceded. _This thing he does will get old the weirder he gets, and_ I'll _be the one swimming in the riches once the ladies see me for what I am meant to be_.

"You're thinking something dumb, aren't you?" Law asked him, glancing at his smug expression from the corner of his eye. Sanji huffed again, straightening his collar. "Thinking something like, _When I get older_ \- "

"Eat shit," Sanji grumbled, frowning at him.

"I was a former kid, once," Law reassured him sarcastically. "I know all about those dumb thoughts. Keep trying. Maybe one day it'll pay off."

"Like I need your shitty encouragement…old man thinks you're casing the joint. Baby pirates with their weird submarine think they got something over a man that visited the _Grand Line_ \- "

"That all he tell ya, kid? Why he lie to you?"

Sanji frowned up at the tanned features of a man with red-rimmed eyes from the lack of sleep, his scruffy dark hair that shone blue under the sun barely contained underneath a spotted hat with a weird brim. He wore a tank top with his jolly roger, showing off tattoos that seemed to spread and flourish with something different every time Sanji saw him. His ripped jeans seemed like a second skin, hanging loosely around worn-white sneakers. He also had a couple of hickies on one side of his neck, and what looked like fuchsia lipstick on his left ear.

 _Table Four_ , Sanji realized, picturing the smirking woman that said nothing to her friends when she'd returned from the bathroom. The lipstick on Law's skin matched the color the woman reapplied while Sanji was serving them. He felt like slapping the man for being such a _whore_ -

"This was a warning," he said with a voice that was forced, pointing at the wound, Law looking at him with some confusion. "I was lucky I was fast enough to avoid the old man's wrath. Serves him right I'd avoided serious injury – I'd have killed him."

Law grabbed the handle of his kit and pulled away from the table. His mind was still on the images that wouldn't go away, and anger warmed his blood. When would he stop being so _angry_ …? These random moments felt like a curse. But he vaguely wondered why Sanji suddenly changed the subject – he noticed the kid's eyes focused on a point lower than his own eyes, and it was a welcome distraction. He gave a flary wave of his hand to the bruises that looked like a claim.

"When you're pretty, it's not about personality – it's about possession," he assured the kid that glowered up at him.

Sanji pulled out another cigarette, lighting it then looking up at the man with a defiant cross of his arms. "I'm not switching my team, no matter what people say 'bout me."

Law turned to look at the kid – with his gangly limbs, smug face, cigarette rolled between too big teeth – and exhaled. He wondered why the kid was so argumentative about this subject; almost like fighting off a blame.

"Don't worry about it," Law muttered. "I like to pay for prostitutes and rob rich floozies that want a notch, not flatter some baby with attention he desperately craves outside of the company of old grandpas..."

"Who said I was craving anything?" Sanji snarled at him, managing to kick him in the back of one thigh and causing him to stumble. "Certainly not the affections of some guy – _gross_! I don't care what you do or what you look like, nothing _you_ do will ever change my mind about guys!"

Law snorted, straightening before pushing out the doors. His crew looked at him with mounting worry, scuttling after him as he ate up the desk space with a long stride. The pair had taken cover in one of the side storage rooms, the sounds of the busy restaurant fluttering over the lazy blue waters. Sanji followed them towards the edge of the deck, waiting for them to board their dinghy that would take them back to the submarine posted a safe distance away. After taking his kit, Law's crew scuttled for position and Law looked back at the teen that watched him from the deck of the Baratie.

"I, uh…probably won't be back," he said as Sanji furrowed his brow. "This is probably the last you'll see of us."

"Good riddance, scumbag," Sanji muttered, cigarette removed from his mouth and smoke exhaled off to the side. He grinned brightly. "That's how it should be."

"Gonna make our reputation," Law said, frowning deeply. His eyes lifted up and away from the teen that scoffed at him. After some determination, he tensed. "Grand Line is a playground for babies, anyway."

"Bad memories, this all was," Sanji scoffed, flicking ashes to the side. The knife that cut the lit end of his cigarette embedded deep into the dinghy, half inch away from Law's boot. Law glanced at the old man that glared down at them both from a floor above, Sanji whirling around with shock flying from his mouth.

With nothing else to say, Law gave a signal for his crew to start rowing while Sanji lit the air blue with his curses at the old man that shouted back at him for hiding away in the closet with some "weirdo".

: :

Years later, at Saobody Archipelago, Law realized why the blond in Monkey D. Luffy's crew looked so familiar. In the flurry of chaos caused by the Marines' presence and Strawhat Luffy's actions, Law, with Bepo worrying at his side, approached the sharply dressed man that looked at him with vexation; still with the constant worrying of a lit cigarette.

The kid realized it, too, but showed nothing on his somewhat matured features. His single eye coasted up and down the older man with absolute scorn, Law smiling grimly at him while his sword rested up against one shoulder and his tattooed fingers clenched the sheath with a slight tremble.

"Nothing's changed," Sanji told him, in a voice that seemed to have matured, free hand finding its way to his pocket. "Found a better doc than you."

"That little raccoon thing, Blackleg-ya? Is that still your name, or did you change it again?"

That cigarette went from one corner to the other, curled eyebrow lowering with a scowl. "What do you want? Coming up to brag about your exploits to me like it matters? I don't care about them. Never did. But look at me, know – _I_ get the ladies."

Law smirked at him. Now that he thought about it, the man in the Wanted poster was not the man standing in front of him – he'd thought someone had stolen off with the kid's name, considering how mouthy he was. _An appropriate ending_ , he'd thought.

"By the way, I got scars from your shitty work, so I wouldn't recommend you to anyone."

"That would mean giving away our little secret. For the record," Law said, intending on walking past him as Marines screamed, and Captain Kidd howled with laughter somewhere nearby, "I'd rather my reputation left alone, as well."

" _What_ reputation? All this weird organ harvesting you do? Nothing I'm touchin'…"

"The one where I'm still stealing away with the ladies in your company…"

"That was _years_ ago, and of course the ladies didn't bother with the help!" Sanji snapped at him, face reddening while Law smiled calmly and Bepo continued to fret because Marines were fleeing around them with tattered and smoking clothes, blood gushing from various areas, and explosions were rocking the soft green grass at their feet. With cigarette between his index and middle finger, Sanji pointed at Law like an accusation. "I let that go because times have changed, and everyone forgot your name, but mine is definitely bigger than yours."

Law looked over Sanji's outfit while the blond frowned up at him, puffing away at his cigarette. He let the meaning hang in the air between them, which caused Sanji's teeth to bare.

"If we run into each other again, it'll be in hell," Sanji promised him, turning away once he heard his name being shrilled through the chaos. Law watched him go, still amused, using his sword to brace himself with as Bepo fluttered around him, whimpering.

A simple exchange later, Sanji sputtered as he found himself with a branch between his teeth rather than his cigarette. He whirled around to glare back at the other man, who took one languid inhale of the fragrant smoke, then put the cigarette out on his wrist. Sanji shook his head, tossed the branch and strode off without another look back. Law smiled, then allowed Bepo to lead the way.

: :

"Are you stalking me?"

Law scowled at the snow that fell around them, the static in his mind fluttering for an instant to allow some clarity to return to his thoughts. His heart was racing noisily, as if he he'd just run a marathon. Every muscle was jelly. His breath tasted like blood and ash, and his expression felt frozen, as if thinly coated by heavy ice. In the back of his thoughts, he could hear Doflamingo's laughter and could feel Vergo's fists upon his face. He'd won – yes, he'd won this battle, but the war was ongoing – but he still felt like that shell-shocked kid he'd been when Corazon was murdered in front of him.

Years had passed, and he still couldn't breathe – when would he be able to _breathe_ …?

The words given to his back registered once more, and Law realized he was being addressed. Static fluttered and stopped. He turned from the falling snow to glare back at Sanji and his stupid orange coat.

"I am standing a mile away from your stupid crew and those stupid kids, and _you_ accuse _me_ of stalking you," Law snarled murderously, blood pumping like hot lava through cold veins.

"I'm flattered, really, but it's not invited," Sanji returned, nonplussed by Law's anger. "I'm going to put my boots to it, suggest that you move on."

"I would if I could," Law assured him tightly, glaring back out at the snowy landscape, his breath visible in front of him. "But I plan on using your idiotic captain as a pawn on my chessboard."

"I figured as such," Sanji said, "because you don't do well on your own. Look at you. Who is this edgelord?"

Law turned to glare venomously down at him, and Sanji chuckled, exhaling fragrant smoke into that glaring expression. "You're an example of what an island like this does to a man that once had a healthy appetite and was forced into starvation. You were forced to go without, and it changed you – I'm not sympathetic, forget it. Maybe you had to learn the hard way."

Giving him a piteous look and reaching out to fiddle with his coat, Sanji then murmured, " _Aw_ , I hope I don't turn out like you."

Law slapped his hand away with a snarl. "I will _dismember_ you where you fucking stand. Don't you fucking touch me, you fucking _simp_!"

"Don't take that edge with me, Mr Lord. Things might've been fine and dandy with your games earlier – _thank you_ – but now that it's just us, it won't be the same. You might be some scary Warlord whatever, but you're still that scruffy piece of shit hiding away in the closet with me, stitching my wounds."

"Don't let that get out in the open, now," Law warned him. "How was your visit with Mr Ladyman? Do it go well? Are you still…intact…?"

Sanji coughed on his smoke, then glared maliciously at him, throwing his cigarette down into the snow. It sizzled softly before disappearing underneath thick layers of snow and ice.

"Fuck you!" he snarled, turning and striding away with his dumb orange coat. Law watched as his hands lifted into the air, flipping him off. " _FUCK YOU_!"

With the sound of his voice eventually dying off within their surroundings, Law felt his mouth twitch. He caught himself before it could move any further. He resumed looking at the landscape in front of him with static taking over his thoughts and his heart thundering noisily in his chest.

: :

"You think you're the master planner, here? I warned you, shit face, that everything you put to paper, thinking it'll work, will absolutely go wrong when you decided to use us as pawns."

Law glared at Sanji's back, the cook moving expertly over the sizzling stove while Luffy and the others screamed and shouted outside – Caesar joined in only because he was the brunt of every one's game, and the costumes that were being forced onto living bodies just to participate on the captain's whim was something Law needed to remove himself from. He was going to kill everybody, he just knew it. His blood was boiling just as hot as the contents in that pot was, and his mind was moving static all over again. He kept hearing Vergo's voice; kept feeling the warmth of Doflamingo's hand on his head, and the weight of Corazon's shoulder in his gut. Nothing was sturdy.

Sanji glanced back at him, roasted skewer in one hand and the other welding a stirring spoon. "You hear me? We speak the same language? Or did those animals screw up your thought processes back there?"

"You're a cook. I expect service."

Sanji set the skewer aside, looking at him flatly while Law glared at him, fist bunched up on the counter and sword clenched tightly at his shoulder. "Relief is temporary," Sanji said slowly, "and none of it's gonna fix that thing going on in your gut, right now. Not even my magic."

"What the shit are you talking about, Blackleg-ya?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Stop acting dumb. Sit your flat ass down and shut up. I'll get to you when I get to you – "

"Sssaannnnjjiiii…!" Luffy cried from the doors, heaving for breath. His goggles were removed from his face while Ussop collapsed next to him, Chopper crying in the background. Sanji snarled at them.

"GET OUT BEFORE I COOK ALL OF YOU!"

"I think I'd taste gummy," Luffy murmured thoughtfully, his face shifting to think about it while Ussop looked at him with alarm. "It matters what I eat, doesn't it? So if what I eat affects my meat, then I assume I'm going to _taste_ like gummy meat. Or maybe like the head of an eraser, but meatier."

Sanji stared at him for a few moments, wearing a mystified expression while Ussop blinked wondrously within the silence. Luffy then shrugged and hurried away, yelling at Chopper to stop crying like a man. After a few moments, Ussop followed on his hands and knees, and Sanji paused because it looked like he was dragging a leash behind him. For a moment, his mind froze with unwanted images, and it took the warning sizzle of his grill to snap him out of it.

By the time he remembered Law had been there to talk to him, the kitchen was empty.

That night, he found the surgeon glaring out over the cast of stars' reflections on a tranquil sea. Only his hair and the feathers of his sweater seemed to move, but the man was as stiff as stone. Sanji spit the remnant of his cigarette out over the railing as Brook played a nighttime lullaby to those sitting on the grass.

"Moody, aren't you?" Sanji murmured, his steps made deliberately heavy so not to startle the man. "The thought that this isn't everything you're saying has crossed my mind multiple times – "

"I didn't venture away from all the noise and rabble just to chat with someone who likes hearing his own voice."

Sanji smirked at him, hands in his pockets as he stood at the man's side. Every part of Law was coiled like a spring, he noticed from the corner of his eye. He then focused his sight out at the sea that bloomed with faint illumination from the islands they were leaving behind as they sailed towards the destination Law gave. The air was sharply chilly, and the former warlord was wearing a feathered cape this time, that left only his face visible – the hat brim was pulled on low, but high enough for Sanji to see the hate glowing in the man's eyes.

"It takes awhile to eat," he said with reluctance, leaning against the railing, clutching his own hands. "To get used to food, to eating enough of it, to allow it back in. But I think you're doing it wrong."

Law didn't look away from the stars. The blood pumping through his veins felt as violent and hot as the static between his ears that made listening difficult. Everything was a hindrance; everything felt like a wall. Even words.

"You're a pampered brat that's never experienced any hardship. Why should I listen to any lecture of yours, Blackleg-ya?"

"No matter what sea we're on, you're still a fucking edgelord."

"What does that even _mean_?" Law growled, fingers tightening at his sword while his jaw flexed.

"That appearance you wear now is the same one you were wearing back then. But all of it, every time, was just a façade."

"And I'm supposed to confide in you my problems, like you're some fucking fairy godmother that was sent to whisk them away?"

"I wonder what those women think of you, now," Sanji murmured thoughtfully, fist propped under his own hairy chin as he squinted up at the man. "Would they still think of you as something to devour, or are they still something to devour?"

Law shook his head ever so slightly, eyebrows furrowing together with the smallest of confusion. The static in his head stopped. He looked away from the stars to the man that looked up at him with clumsy reflection.

"Even if," he managed to say, unclenching his teeth, "being pretty is a possession."

"Back then, you said it differently. You said it nonchalantly, because at that time it was quantity and not quality. Now it sounds like an accusation. She break it off with you once you started stealing away with her eyeliner?"

Law rolled his eyes. In the dim light of the moon above and the glow of the lights from the nearby deck, Sanji could see that his skin was still tan and even – without imperfections. But there was an unkept aura about the man that was there that hadn't deliberately been there before. Back then, Law flaunted himself because he knew what power he possessed – now it seemed that Law was hiding himself because he'd gotten tired of its power.

"Had your heart broken too many times, eh? The game turned its back to you when you needed it to work for you the most," Sanji theorized, examining his hands while Law glared down at him.

"And yet, you're still in competition with someone who has no business lowering himself to your self-made track."

"I've NEVER competed with you!" Sanji snarled at him, straightening away from the railing and stomping a foot. "I don't have to! I'm a different man from you, _quality_ not quantity, and I - !"

"Listen to yourself. Squeaking like a mouse in front of its predator."

" _You_ ," Sanji snapped at him, finger in his face, "are _no_ predator. _You_ are the prey. And the only way you define yourself as such is with… _feathers_. Man up, stupid! _Idiot_! Dummy! Why do I even bother trying to talk to you when it's like talking to idiot moss - _both of you muscle freaks_ – fuck off! No brains between either of you!"

His hands flailed about to ruffle the feathers around Law's neck before he turned and strode away, lighting up a cigarette. Law stared after him with absolute bewilderment, mouth open before catching himself with a growl of his own.

"That didn't make any fucking sense, Blackleg-ya!" Law snapped after him. "You're still just a fucking child, saying confusing shit just to hear your own voice."

"FUCK YOU!"

" _Sanji_!" Luffy admonished him from out of side. "Don't use that sort of language around Ussop. He has dainty ears."

" _I do not_ , what the hell!" Ussop cried.

"We're _pirates_ , asshole!" Chopper shrilled. "Nothing about us is _dainty_!"

"Except me!" Nami sang prettily.

Law returned his attention to the sea when the screams of men sounded out, Sanji snarling through all of it. Brook's violin ceased with a snap, the skeleton screaming in protest while Caesar cried. Franky laughed loudly, Robin joining him moments later. Nami's resulting punishment pierced through the vast quiet like a hot knife through butter, apologies and protests ringing out as her crew was pummeled into undignified quiet. The sudden silence ruptured something in Law that took him to a different place from this one.

Law remembered that one time he'd brought a woman back to his room after Punk Hazard. They'd roomed briefly at an island the StrawHats somehow changed for the better with some random side quest of theirs, and Nami had arranged for hotel stays for all of them just to recover. Law remembered the thrill of a woman's touch after such a long period of time of being deprived of consensual kindness; his skin craved it, like a drug he'd withdrawn from, the feelings of sex considerably elevated and heightened after being deprived of it.

He remembered quite clearly the color of her thighs, and the taste of her kiss. Law remembered feeling satisfied and smug because she was a beautiful woman with a perfect set of hips that allowed his hands the right sort of grip as she moved atop of him, and he remembered the creak of the bed with their movements. She wasn't afraid to moan or curse, and her hair whipped against his thighs when her head tilted back. She got what she wanted when they met in the bar – she left her lipstick smears on his skin and scratches from her nails on his chest.

In the middle of it, he'd noticed the time on the bedside stand. For some reason – _2:13 am_ – struck out at him. He remembered the cold of the night as he waited for the Marines to arrive on the island, Corazon's written message held tightly in his mitten. He remembered the horror crossing over Corazon's face upon seeing Vergo. That moment seemed to smear into other 2:13 am mornings where he had a woman in his bed and they were doing the same, exact things he was doing now. He wouldn't remember their names, couldn't separate their smells, and didn't recall their individual faces when he spent 2:13 am mornings within a compound surrounded by snow and ice.

But it was all the same. Women latched onto him because he was attractive, and tried to trap him like some elusive animal so they could possess him forever. He treated them similarly – they were all toys for him to play with, and he was comfortable with the abundance of it. Some thought they could go further than this 2:13 am activity with pregnancy announcements months later, some claiming they were in love with him – but he was an elusive animal; being a pirate with his reputation meant he couldn't be tied down with commitments or by weaklings that would die if he were targeted because that's what happened to people he loved; _they died_.

But suddenly Law realized how lonely he was. He suddenly realized he did this to himself; he thought of others as objects to use, things to discard once he was done with them, and the moment he came to this, he'd gone soft and his bed partner realized he was looking at the apex of her thighs – really, he was watching his softening dick with horrified realization – and she caught her breath with a puzzled look.

Out of embarrassment and shame, he pushed her aside and sat up while she released her confusion with questions and a look of concern. He couldn't quite answer her. He ordered her to get out (made it mean to protect himself), and gave her time to gather up her clothes but not time to clean up. She was pissed – _naturally_ – and he sat at the edge of his bed with a puzzled look – still naked, still sweaty, still marked by her. He rubbed at a lipstick smear on his thigh with an absent gesture.

The thought that he was all alone in this world made his gut feel empty and heavy at the same time. Static returned to his thoughts in a rush and his skin crawled with irritation and disgust. He took a shower to escape the ghost of the woman's touch and left his room, unable to think or feel.

Could he allow another person to touch him again? Knowing that they were just expendable? This long time alone had left him feeling numb, and even as he had touch just now, would he have it again after Dressrosa?

Would he die without feeling love or being loved again?

No, of course he felt love – his crew was precious. Which is why he kept them safe – pampered, babied them. Kept them from the battle and out of trouble, lying that he'd meet them later when he had a strong feeling he'd never do so again, and he didn't want to say 'goodbye' because that would be cruel to them.

Trafalgar Law was terrified of love, and he wore that like a damned tattoo. He stood outside the hotel side door with a sense of stricken horror, unable to feel his hands or his face.

"For all appearances, it appears you have bad luck with women," Zoro said, startling him out of his terrified thoughts within the dark of the night. Law's eyes snapped in his direction, catching sight of the swordsman standing out in the middle of the street with something like relief in his features and a jug held tightly in one hand. He wore a light expression of amusement, thumb jerking up and backward to indicate a random direction. Law looked in that direction and saw nothing, so he looked at Zoro with a puzzled question that didn't leave his clenched teeth. "That lady that passed by said you couldn't get it up."

Huffing, Law felt his face redden. "Just with her."

"Been awhile, huh?" Zoro asked, with genuine sympathy, taking a swing before belching with satisfaction. "Good thing you came out, because I did _not_ know where I was going. It appears it's this building, huh?"

Law stared at him in puzzled silence, unable to stop himself from doing so. Zoro didn't require an answer, but he strode over with victory clear on his features. He was talking about something else entirely, something that didn't have anything to do with Law's problems, and yet Zoro was addressing him directly and Zoro didn't even know it. It was both terrifying and horrifying at the same time to feel so personally affected by someone else's thoughtless words.

Zoro patted Law's shoulder before walking up to the hotel door and entering without anything else to say. Law glanced after him then away, momentarily dumb with words or thoughts.

 _I'm all alone_ , he couldn't help but think, looking up at the starry night sky above the city. The stars were muffled by the city lights, but some sparkled brilliantly without the pollution. He felt _exactly_ as he did when Corazon left him, and it was only his voice he could hear in the snowy depths of Sparrow Island. He felt panicked, horror, loss and grief like that stained, wet cloak he'd clutched back then. _I'm all alone_ …

Now, present time, Law thought about what Sanji said. ' _Relief is temporary, and none of it's gonna fix that thing going on in your gut, right now_ …'

 _Only_ his _death can_ , Law thought of Doflamingo, feeling that familiar burning feeling warm his veins. _And even then…can death truly give relief_?

He turned away from the railing, gritting his teeth and focusing on the voices in the distance. Room formed, he plucked a feather from his cape and tossed it in front of him; exchanging the item with the cook, who was wearing bruises from Nami's fist and a dumbfounded look, steaming mugs in both hands, Law glowered at him. Sanji blinked at him with confusion, looking from him to the mugs in his hands, then turning to look back at the others with a question emerging from the back of his throat.

"Relief is temporary," Law confirmed gravely, Sanji looking back at him with ultimate confusion, "because it is like a shot of anesthesia. Temporary because it helps the sufferer forget, for that moment, how much it hurts. When the wound heals, it depends on the subject how well it heals. It also depends on the person treating the wound."

Sanji blinked big, bewildered eyes at him before lowering his hands slightly. He tossed his head in an effort to move his hair from his face before using his mouth to blow air up towards the unruly strands. It took him a few moments to realize what this even meant, giving Law a cross look.

"And you're taking this personal, _why_? You need a doc to fix a wound you've been treating temporarily?"

Law stared at him in silence, mind whirling with confusing thoughts. He saw the face of the woman he was rude to, and could recall the blood drying on a clownish face. Neither of them were connected, so the images were confusing. He thought of the emptiness in his chest where his heart should be, and the weight in his gut that made him feel like he was heavier than he was.

"Because Chopper's a good doc," Sanji assured him, gesturing with a mug. "But it don't _seem_ like it's a physical wound you're describing, and it's something that I personally don't need to know about."

"Why?" Law demanded of him crossly. "I am unloading a considerable weight onto a pair of ears that can understand the deeper meaning without me saying it, and you're turning me away."

"Because I'd rather listen to a woman cry than a man," Sanji answered with a light smile. "Because their problems are easier to fix. They want love? I can give them all the love and then some. A man? Pft. _I'm_ a fucking man, I know what those problems are and I can't – _won't_ – do anything about it."

" _Why_?"

"I believe I quite clearly informed you of such years ago. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Show me the scars I left behind on you."

Sanji gave him a look of outrage while Law stared stubbornly at him. "NO," the cook spat at him before turning and striding off.

Law felt the edge of a smirk lift his tight lips as he watched the cook leave him. _A one constant_ , he thought as he returned his attention the sea. _That's the connection_.

: :

"This isn't about what you're telling these guys, it's something personal, isn't it? The way you're burning up inside, posing on the ship like an abstract painting, you're allowing the Strawhats and myself, my precious, _beautiful_ self, to deliver you on a colorful coffin for some suicide thing."

Law rolled his eyes as he kicked Caesar aside, the gasman tumbling over the grass with undignified yelps before hitting a tree. Robin used the man as a cup holder, Caesar screeching with the treatment but not upsetting the empty cup. Sanji was holding an empty tray, cigarette burning at the corner of his mouth while he looked at Law with pure revulsion.

"A pall bearer," Sanji mused, rubbing his hairy chin with thought. "I should pick out an appropriate outfit for this. Something black? Something navy? Something colorful?"

Law faced him, fingers tight on his sword. Despite the subject, they spoke normally because the crew was fishing, and to do so, they needed the dramatics to make it fun and interesting. Robin was watching them with affection from her lounge chair while Nami snored on her towel nearby, Franky rubbing sunscreen on various faces with one big hand and a joyous voice.

Words were difficult nowadays. His blood was fire. So Law answered, "Whatever you want."

Sanji gave him an impatient look, flippantly tossing his hair once more. "I have a suit for this," he said with a sigh. "Reserved for special occasions such as this. But I won't wear any flowers. Flowers are meant for the beautiful ladies, and you sir, are not a beautiful lady."

"But I have the heart of a beautiful lady," Law argued, causing him to spit out his cigarette. "I want to have a possession that no one else can have."

Sanji gave him a strange look, scuttling in close to ask low, "But that's not always limited to ladies, in some cases. Is this actually your coming out party?"

"Was Ivankov a man or a woman when he took you?"

" _FUCK YOU_!" Sanji erupted, flaring up with smoke and flame, causing Robin a surprised gasp. Law watched him stomp away, shouting, "FUCK YOU FUCK YOU _FUCK YOU_!"

" _Language_!" Robin admonished, then laughed, looking at Law. She didn't say anything, but smiled at him with mirth. Law scoffed at her and walked away, seeking solitude in the shadows and from the rapid beating of his heart. It felt like panic and fear, but it could've been something else entirely.

After all this time, was he afraid of death, or was he afraid of love?

: :

Wherever they went, whatever they did, the Strawhats always wanted to sit down and celebrate. But this one celebration was tinged with an odd sense of emptiness that felt new and odd. Was it because Law had survived? Was it because the future he never thought possible was playing out in front of him and he didn't have a plan? He had been certain on dying that he never gave a thought to another possibility – an alternate reality. This was new and uncharted seas for him, and Law was floundering without the weight he'd carried in his chest for years. Minks celebrated and ate with joy and happiness that was almost contagious; his crew were amongst them, smiling brightly and joyfully, throwing him occasional glances while he sat in the shadows to avoid the highly repulsive gesturing of the Minks' crowding.

Law sipped at his mug. He wasn't sure how to feel or how to act; he wasn't sure of himself as a person. His healing arm seemed to burn with a phantom pain at the stitches, but he knew for himself that there was nothing wrong with it.

He said it himself: 'When the wound heals, it depends on the subject how well it heals.'

But how does one heal when they weren't expecting to survive?

The main obstacle was conquered and left behind in a flurry of close calls and indignity. Law wasn't expecting himself to be one of the survivors emerging from the smoke, blinking up at a blue sky. An alternate reality.

Usually when he celebrated, it was over drinks and with a woman – Law couldn't imagine himself partaking in that. Sex wasn't the same since the last time. And now? Could he stand to be touched? The Minks' invasive way of crowding his space made him physically ill. Maybe he thought he shouldn't be touched. He'd tricked and won, and yet…all the mistakes and decisions he'd made because he thought he was going to die were now cold, callous choices that earned him a considerable reputation.

Was he that reputation, anymore?

In the quiet space of his hiding spot, he pulled out the note Sanji had written. He'd taken it when it was dropped, left in a crumbling ball on a thousand year old elephant's back. ' _To my buds_ …'

So, the past of this North Blue occupant had finally caught up to him, just as Law's had. The past always comes back around. The thought was terrifying. Could he live differently now that his was settled? _How to heal this wound_? Law wondered, re-folding the note within one hand. He looked down at his arm, lifting the sleeve to examine the scar there. With a fingertip, he traced the length visible to him. As a surgeon, he knew the value of keeping a healing physical wound safe and guarded, allowed nourishment and space to flourish. But what happened to the invisible wounds?

He lowered his sleeve and took a hearty drink of his ale.

: :

"I don't want to talk about it."

"…I didn't say anything."

"The point is, we're moving forward."

"…I didn't even say one thing."

"There's no point looking back at the past because whatever happened there is over and done with, now."

"…I didn't even invite this conversation, so…"

"You know what I was thinking when I first saw you here? I just thought – "

"I don't even want to know – "

" – what a fucking _dick_. Looking so fucking smug. Just like how he did when he would come into the shitty restaurant years ago. Like the world is new and needs exploring."

"Like a new woman's tits?"

Sanji looked at Law with revulsion, and Law couldn't help but struggle to hide away his smile. Wano, with all its smells and sights, was just a colorful whisper in the background. Giants walked about in colorful robes and plans were uttered with grave expressions. But there was a different weight to Law's face, and he wasn't sure how to hold it as he used to.

"Ivankov's…?"

"Fucking hate you. I do. I hope you feel _my_ hate burning into _your_ gut."

"I know what bothers you, and I will use it as a weapon."

" _Why_?" Sanji asked, disgusted as he looked at him. Both of them were sitting outside of the ruins, the feel of moss under their hands grimy against their palms and the stone cold and unforgiving. Yet the sun burned high over them, and a storm rumbled in the distance. The sound of running water was constant and soothing, while animals called out in various languages from the trees. Grass rippled under cool breezes ahead of them while a mouse cautiously sought out leftovers from the "good" food Luffy had already demolished.

Law didn't answer him. _A constant_ , he thought with a wince.

"Whatever," Sanji then muttered, glaring at his bare feet. " _This_ is more important, though. Nothing else matters."

"Why can't it?"

"Why give any weight to something that's just background noise?"

Sanji exhaled low, Okiku looking back at them with a subtle smile. Sanji waved at her joyfully and exalted some praises that made Law grimace with his own revulsion. Once her attention was taken elsewhere, Sanji resumed his earlier grim expression and Law wondered if those lessons with Ivankov had finally made an impact on a misandrist.

"Our bodies carry the scars of our physical wounds," Sanji then said slowly, examining the sky with a frown. "Our souls show the rawness of hidden wounds. You can heal skin, but how do you heal the soul? Ignore it and paint over it with something else? Or address it for what it is and acknowledging that it happened."

"Kinda hard to ignore that these things happened in the first place."

"Yes, but…do you just shut the door, or open the window to allow it to make you into something you don't want to be?"

 _I don't want to be him_ , Law thought, staring blankly at the rippling grass.

 _I don't want to be them_ , Sanji thought.

"Years between this and that make a difference," Sanji then added. "It's not as raw. But when you see it when you don't want to…what kinda band-aid do you slap over that shit?"

"Not a woman," Law advised him. Sanji glowered at him. "All these years of slapping on bandaids that don't stick created skin that rejects the adhesive."

"So, what, you can't anymore? Sure it ain't no STD?"

Law smiled thinly at him. " _Garchu_ , Sanji."

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME."

"I reject contact because it doesn't feel real, anymore. I realized…that I'm an object myself. And I'm easily disposed of."

"The thought is terrifying," Sanji agreed reluctantly. A soft moment of reflection gave Law a glimpse of man he hadn't seen before. But Sanji didn't expand on that thought. He let it go, and Law allowed him to because this was a give and take conversation.

"I can't connect because I've always been raw. An infection that can't be cured will turn me into…something I don't want to be."

"It's because you're afraid," Sanji told him impatiently. "Afraid of _what_? You already acknowledged what's scary about it. What's more than that?"

"Being unable to treat the next wound."

"The worst that can happen is that _you_ will die, and after that, why should you care?"

"I don't want to think like that, because I know how it feels to lose someone you love. The hole never quite closes. It's unfair for those left behind."

Sanji didn't make an expression, but it was the first time he heard Law say anything soft. So he gave the man his pride and let him keep it without digging into it. He exhaled hard.

"That's because you keep digging at it, you dumb bastard. Picking at the edges of the grave with your own damn hands. You should live your life to love those closest to you, grateful and thankful that you had them in the first place. Without it, what's the point? Stupid. _Idiot_. Dumb ass."

Law frowned at him, hands clenched in his lap. He looked at the members of his crew. His heart beat softer looking at them – the thought of losing them was terrifying – but the memories he made with them and of them…the memories made him feel softer inside, his blood warm, not boiling.

"I've got bad memories, but others, the majority of them are good," Sanji said carefully. " _Because_ of the people I choose to spend those memories with. You are your own environment. Spending time with your crew…isn't that important?"

"It is, but I – "

"'I'm afraid of losing them'," Sanji mimicked his voice, then rolled his eyes as Law frowned at him. "I understand it's possible to be negative all the time, but that's exhausting. Do something different. Shake up your own timeline. Surprise yourself. What you gonna do – spend the rest of the life you were gifted with hiding and being afraid of everything? That's how you save yourself?"

"…No."

"It's simple, Law. What do you need me telling you this, for? You already know it. Shitty masochist."

Law frowned out at the group that were talking excitedly amongst themselves. His head rang with a different sort of sound, but it wasn't anxiety. It wasn't doom. It felt like an unidentifiable feeling. He scratched at his earrings before he looked at the blond.

"You ever fuck a Mink?"

Sanji threw his head back and howled, "FOR SHIT'S SAKE _WHAT THE FUCK_?"

" _LANGUAGE_!" Kin'omon shouted with a horrified look in their direction, Momonusuke's face blooming with horror then understanding.

Hands clenched tightly, Sanji snarled as Law smirked, watching the reactions of the others as they lost interest in the conversation. "You do this," Sanji started with much effort, "you do this thing where you're so fucking awkward at being vulnerable that you say or do something to divert attention from the real problem."

"What's the real problem, Blackleg-ya?"

Sanji looked at him, and gave him a pathetic shake of his head. "That you're just a clumsy dumbass that doesn't know how to people. I feel sorry for you. It's evident you were raised in a trash heap, surrounded by wolves."

"The wolves part was real," Law agreed. "Trash heap…well…those are the strengths behind my scars."

"Then get out of there. For shit's sake. Stop thinking you can't. Whoever put you there in the first place shouldn't be the one you let suffocate you."

Law weighed that comment as Sanji hopped down onto the grass, stretching. "Show me the scars I gave you."

"Eat shit and die, you shit ass excuse of a surgeon."

"Did you ever look at them closely? Not only was I practicing my stitches, I was practicing my initials, too."

Sanji gave him a look of horror, hand to his hip before he recovered quickly. He flipped him off, striding away – absently rubbing at his hip. Law smirked after him.

: :

His robes whipped across his calves like a welcome slap. The celebration was in full force, but only one man was lying face down into the grass, not participating. Bandages made it difficult to hold his arms as he wanted, but Law exhaled heavily as he used a sandal to kick Sanji with. The cook didn't move, but he sniffled.

"You could've asked," Law told him flatly, shifting his ale from one hand to the other.

"…Trickery…"

"I mean, after everything you went through, do you not have a sixth sense?"

"…it doesn't make sense. How could she choose THAT guy over me?"

Law furrowed his brow because it could've been either one. He sipped at his ale, watching people celebrate Kaido's defeat. The Marines were surrounding the island, and they'd have to rush off once more, but the captain of the Strawhats wanted a proper celebration, first. It was custom, Law supposed, to expect one, now.

"Destiny," he said with a shrug. "That's what it is."

Slowly, Sanji pulled himself up to sit properly, sniffling noisily. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, used his gloves to absently brush grass from the cloth. He just smeared dried blood, snot and mud into the material, causing Law a disgusted wince.

"I've never been kissed," Sanji then said with resolve, appearing to make himself feel better. He wiped his face again.

"By a woman," Law verified, just to push that knife in a little bit further. "Men, yes, but women…? It's not in the cards."

" _Fuck_. OFF."

" _LANGUAGE_!" Momo screamed at him from somewhere within the din. Neither of the men could see the kid.

"Accept your fate, Blackleg-ya. Technically, if she identifies as a woman, then she's a woman."

"Just… _shut up_ …"

Law smirked at him then glanced around. There were many appealing women out there, and some of them were eager to sleep with a hero. But his skin crawled at the thought.

"Off we venture," he then said. "To unknown seas for various reasons."

"We'll meet up with the others, just as we have before," Sanji said assuredly. He slowly rose to his feet, every movement sluggish. "Your pessimism won't rub off on me."

"There's still so much to do," Law said with agreement. "And you're young…it'll happen, I'm sure. How old was the fiancée again? Sixteen?"

Sanji gave him a murderous look, huffing. Somehow, he looked respectable all over again. "There are too many women in the world to be focused on one. I mean, the time will come."

"Watch out, Blackleg-ya. You're starting to sound like me."

"Didn't you hear the news, stupid?"

Law said nothing, because he wasn't sure how to process that one just yet. Not now. Not at this time. That was a later thought.

Sanji looked at him. For a moment, there was sadness present in his expression, but it was gone like the others. He exhaled, then found his cigarettes, lighting one up. After a few moments, Law took the cigarette from him, watching Sanji watch him as he put the ember out on his wrist. The scars would fade like the others.

"One of us is the fire, the other will be the one to put it out. When that time comes, I hope neither hesitates. Because it might be a fire neither of us can stop."

"Whichever the role, _that_ wound won't heal."

"But it shouldn't hold us back, either."

"…Fire and ice don't always have to be enemies."

"But they are each other's destruction."

"Who's the pessimist, here? Some cultures use fire to melt ice to save a life."

"Look at you, all wise and calm at your age."

Law tossed the dead cigarette and turned to head back to the others, ale in hand. He felt the touch of the man at the small of his back, but it was as fleeting as a ghost.


End file.
